


Untitled

by turnedouttobeagaything



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x03, Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8400766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnedouttobeagaything/pseuds/turnedouttobeagaything
Summary: Dean and Cas, talking12x03 coda





	

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr! I am new and alone in this deancas world 
> 
> My username is turnedouttobeagaything :)

Cas picks up on the third ring.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean’s voice sounds falsely chipper, a little too loud even to his own ears. He’s only two beers in, but he’s well on his way to fixing that. “How’s uh—how you doing?”

“I’m…frustrated. Lucifer _was_ here, but I’ve lost his trail.”

Cas’ voice is blessedly familiar; soothing through the phone, and for some stupid reason it makes a lump form in his throat. Dean takes another long pull from the bottle, trying to get rid of it, but his nose is already stinging again and his eyelids feel heavy. If he talks now, Cas will be able to tell how fucked up he is and then he’ll want to know what’s wrong and the whole point of this phone call was to _distract_ Dean.

“Crowley showed up,” Cas continues with a huffy sort of sigh. Thankfully he’s oblivious to the way Dean is quietly falling apart. “There were…complications.”

Dean manages to make a questioning sort of sound that doesn’t require any actual words.

“Rowena-shaped complications,” he clarifies. “Lucifer had taken her hostage, but by the time we caught up to them, she had already managed to banish him. It’ll take a while to find him again.”

“Better luck next time,” Dean says. His voice sounds thick. _Obvious_.

“…Yes,” Cas replies, a beat too late. Dean lets his head slip forward. His eyes squeeze shut. So much for a distraction. There’s a heavy sort of silence on Cas’ end of the line and Dean just waits for what he knows is coming, taking a few more gulps of beer to steel himself. “Dean…how are _you_ doing?”

“Fine,” he says automatically. “Great.” Cas doesn’t say anything and Dean feels the words bubble up inside him a second before they spill out of their own accord. “Mom, uh, left.”

It’s so much worse saying it out loud. So much worse.

“She left on a hunt?”

“No. She just—left.” And, yep, there it is. Dean’s voice threatens to break on the last word. He twists his cell phone away from his mouth for a second so he can let out an unsteady breath, fingers rubbing viciously at the wetness in his eyes.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas says, quiet and sorrowful.

“Said she needed time or something,” Dean tells him. He drains the last of his third bottle, cracks open a fourth.

“Time to adjust.”

“Yeah, but.” Dean falls silent as his throat closes up again. He tries to get control of himself three times, before he just gives up. Hides his face with one hand and doesn’t fight the tears. “Sorry,” he chokes out, when he realizes Cas is just patiently listening to him sniffle.

“For what?”

Dean picks up his beer bottle again; contemplates getting something a little stronger. “I don’t know, man,” he says wetly. There’s the beginnings of a headache throbbing dully behind his eyes. “I’m kinda losing it here.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Dean.” He says it with such surety—such conviction—that Dean almost believes him.

“Hey, Cas?” His voice comes out uncertain. “You coming home anytime soon?”

“Of course,” he answers immediately. _Of course_. It loosens something in Dean’s chest. “I’m coming home right now.”


End file.
